Christ in this saying touched the sloth and sluggishness of his, and
did not allow the fraud and subtlety of others; neither was glad
that it was indeed as he had said, but complained rather that it
should be so: as many men speak many things, not that they ought to
be so, but that they are wont to be so. Nay, this grieved Christ,
that the children of this world should be of more policy than the
children of light; which thing was true in Christ's time, and now in
our time is most true. Who is so blind but he seeth this clearly;
except perchance there be any that cannot discern the children of
the world from the children of light? The children of the world
conceive and bring forth more prudently; and things conceived and
brought forth they nourish and conserve with much more policy than
do the children of light. Which thing is as sorrowful to be said,
as it seemeth absurd to be heard. When ye hear the children of the
world, you understand the world as a father. For the world is
father of many children, not by the first creation and work, but by
imitation of love. He is not only a father, but also the son of
another father. If ye know once his father, by and by ye shall know
his children. For he that hath the devil to his father, must needs
have devilish children. The devil is not only taken for father, but
also for prince of the world, that is, of worldly folk. It is
either all one thing, or else not much different, to say, children
of the world, and children of the devil; according to that that
Christ said to the Jews, "Ye are of your father the devil:" where as
undoubtedly he spake to children of this world. Now seeing the
devil is both author and ruler of the darkness, in the which the
children of this world walk, or, to say better, wander; they
mortally hate both the light, and also the children of light. And
hereof it cometh, that the children of light never, or very seldom,
lack persecution in this world, unto which the children of the
world, that is, of the devil, bringeth them. And there is no man
but he seeth, that these use much more policy in procuring the hurt
and damage of the good, than those in defending themselves.
Therefore, brethren, gather you the disposition and study of the
children by the disposition and study of the fathers. Ye know this
is a proverb much used: "An evil crow, an evil egg." Then the
children of this world that are known to have so evil a father, the
world, so evil a grandfather, the devil, cannot choose but be evil.
Surely the first head of their ancestry was the deceitful serpent
the devil, a monster monstrous above all monsters. I cannot wholly
express him, I wot not what to call him, but a certain thing
altogether made of the hatred of God, of mistrust in God, of lyings,
deceits, perjuries, discords, manslaughters; and, to say at one
word, a thing concrete, heaped up and made of all kind of mischief.
But what the devil mean I to go about to describe particularly the
devil's nature, when no reason, no power of man's mind can
comprehend it? This alonely I can say grossly, and as in a sum, of
the which all we (our hurt is the more) have experience, the devil
to be a stinking sentine of all vices; a foul filthy channel of all
mischiefs; and that this world, his son, even a child meet to have
such a parent, is not much unlike his father.

Then, this devil being such one as can never be unlike himself; lo,
of Envy, his well-beloved Leman, he begat the World, and after left
it with Discord at nurse; which World, after that it came to man's
state, had of many concubines many sons. He was so fecund a father,
and had gotten so many children of Lady Pride, Dame Gluttony,
Mistress Avarice, Lady Lechery, and of Dame Subtlety, that now hard
and scant ye may find any corner, any kind of life, where many of
his children be not. In court, in cowls, in cloisters, in rochets,
be they never so white; yea, where shall ye not find them? Howbeit,
they that be secular and laymen, are not by and by children of the
world; nor they children of light, that are called spiritual, and of
the clergy. No, no; as ye may find among the laity many children of
light, so among the clergy, (how much soever we arrogate these holy
titles unto us, and think them only attributed to us, Vos estis lux
mundi, peculium Christi, &c. "Ye are the light of the world, the
chosen people of Christ, a kingly priesthood, an holy nation, and
such other,") ye shall find many children of the world; because in
all places the world getteth many children. Among the lay people
the world ceaseth not to bring to pass, that as they be called
wordly, so they are wordly indeed; driven headlong by worldly
desires: insomuch that they may right well seem to have taken as
well the manners as the name of their father. In the clergy, the
world also hath learned a way to make of men spiritual, worldlings;
yea, and there also to form worldly children, where with great
pretence of holiness, and crafty colour of religion, they utterly
desire to hide and cloak the name of the world, as though they were
ashamed of their father; which do execrate and detest the world
(being nevertheless their father) in words and outward signs, but in
heart and work they coll and kiss him, and in all their lives
declare themselves to be his babes; insomuch that in all worldly
points they far pass and surmount those that they call seculars,
laymen, men of the world. The child so diligently followeth the
steps of his father, is never destitute of the aid of his
grandfather. These be our holy holy men, that say they are dead to
the world, when no men be more lively in worldly things than some of
them be. But let them be in profession and name most farthest from
the world, most alienate from it; yea, so far, that they may seem to
have no occupying, no kindred, no affinity, nothing to do with it:
yet in their life and deeds they shew themselves no bastards, but
right begotten children of the world; as that which the world long
sithens had by his dear wife Dame Hypocrisy, and since hath brought
them up and multiplied to more than a good many; increased them too
much, albeit they swear by all he-saints and she-saints too, that
they know not their father, nor mother, neither the world, nor
hypocrisy; as indeed they can semble and dissemble all things; which
thing they might learn wonderful well of their parents. I speak not
of all religious men, but of those that the world hath fast knit at
his girdle, even in the midst of their religion, that is, of many
and more than many. For I fear, lest in all orders of men the
better, I must say the greater part of them be out of order, and
children of the world. Many of these might seem ingrate and unkind
children, that will no better acknowledge and recognise their
parents in words and outward pretence, but abrenounce and cast them
off, as though they hated them as dogs and serpents. Howbeit they,
in this wise, are most grateful to their parents, because they be
most like them, so lively representing them in countenance and
conditions, that their parents seem in them to be young again,
forasmuch as they ever say one thing and think another. They shew
themselves to be as sober, as temperate, as Curius the Roman was,
and live every day as though all their life were a shroving time.
They be like their parents, I say, inasmuch as they, in following
them, seem and make men believe they hate them. Thus grandfather
Devil, father World, and mother Hypocrisy, have brought them up.
Thus good obedient sons have borne away their parents' commandments;
neither these be solitary, how religious, how mocking, how monking,
I would say, soever they be.

O ye will lay this to my charge, that monachus and solitarius
signifieth all one. I grant this to be so, yet these be so solitary
that they be not alone, but accompanied with great flocks of
fraternities. And I marvel if there be not a great sort of bishops
and prelates, that are brethren germain unto these; and as a great
sort, so even as right born, and world's children by as good title
as they. But because I cannot speak of all, when I say prelates, I
understand bishops, abbots, priors, archdeacons, deans, and other of
such sort, that are now called to this convocation, as I see, to
entreat here of nothing but of such matters as both appertain to the
glory of Christ, and to the wealth of the people of England. Which
thing I pray God they do as earnestly as they ought to do. But it
is to be feared lest, as light hath many her children here, so the
world hath sent some of his whelps hither; amongst the which I know
there can be no concord nor unity, albeit they be in one place, in
one congregation. I know there can be no agreement between these
two, as long as they have minds so unlike, and so contrary
affections, judgments so utterly diverse in all points. But if the
children of this world be either more in number, or more prudent
than the children of light, what then availeth us to have this
convocation? Had it not been better we had not been called together
at all? For as the children of this world be evil, so they breed
and bring forth things evil; and yet there be more of them in all
places, or at the least they be more politic than the children of
light in their generation. And here I speak of the generation
whereby they do engender, and not of that whereby they are
engendered, because it should be too long to entreat how the
children of light are engendered, and how they come in at the door;
and how the children of the world be engendered, and come in another
way. Howbeit, I think all you that be here were not engendered
after one generation, neither that ye all came by your promotions
after one manner: God grant that ye, engendered worldly, do not
engender worldly: and as now I much pass not how ye were
engendered, or by what means ye were promoted to those dignities
that ye now occupy, so it be honest, good and profitable, that ye in
this your consultation shall do and engender.

The end of your convocation shall shew what ye have done; the fruit
that shall come of your consultation shall shew what generation ye
be of. For what have ye done hitherto, I pray you, these seven
years and more? What have ye engendered? What have ye brought
forth? What fruit is come of your long and great assembly? What
one thing that the people of England hath been the better of a hair;
or you yourselves, either more accepted before God, or better
discharged toward the people committed unto your cure? For that the
people is better learned and taught now, than they were in time
past, to whether of these ought we to attribute it, to your
industry, or to the providence of God, and the foreseeing of the
king's grace! Ought we to thank you, or the king's highness?
Whether stirred other first, you the king, that he might preach, or
he you by his letters, that ye should preach oftener? Is it
unknown, think you, how both ye and your curates were, in [a]
manner, by violence enforced to let books to be made, not by you,
but by profane and lay persons; to let them, I say, be sold abroad,
and read for the instruction of the people? I am bold with you, but
I speak Latin and not English, to the clergy, not to the laity; I
speak to you being present, and not behind your backs. God is my
witness, I speak whatsoever is spoken of the good-will that I bear
you; God is my witness, which knoweth my heart, and compelleth me to
say that I say.

Now, I pray you in God's name, what did you, so great fathers, so
many, so long a season, so oft assembled together? What went you
about? What would ye have brought to pass? Two things taken away--
the one, that ye (which I heard) burned a dead man; the other, that
ye (which I felt) went about to burn one being alive: him, because
he did, I cannot tell how, in his testament withstand your profit;
in other points, as I have heard, a very good man; reported to be of
an honest life while he lived, full of good works, good both to the
clergy, and also to the laity: this other, which truly never hurt
any of you, ye would have raked in the coals, because he would not
subscribe to certain articles that took away the supremacy of the
king:- take away these two noble acts, and there is nothing else
left that ye went about, that I know, saving that I now remember,
that somewhat ye attempted against Erasmus, albeit as yet nothing is
come to light. Ye have oft sat in consultation, but what have ye
done? Ye have had many things in deliberation, but what one is put
forth, whereby either Christ is more glorified, or else Christ's
people made more holy I appeal to your own conscience. How chanced
this? How came it thus? Because there were no children of light,
no children of God amongst you, which, setting the world at nought,
would study to illustrate the glory of God, and thereby shew
themselves children of light? I think not so, certainly I think not
so. God forbid, that all you, which were gathered together under
the pretence of light, should be children of the world! Then why
happened this? Why, I pray you? Perchance, either because the
children of the world were more in number in this your congregation,
as it oft happeneth, or at the least of more policy than the
children of light in their generation: whereby it might very soon
be brought to pass, that these were much more stronger in gendering
the evil than these in producing the good. The children of light
have policy, but it is like the policy of the serpent, and is joined
with doveish simplicity. They engender nothing but simply,
faithfully, and plainly, even so doing all that they do. And
therefore they may with more facility be cumbered in their
engendering, and be the more ready to take injuries. But the
children of this world have worldly policy, foxly craft, lion-like
cruelty, power to do hurt, more than either aspis or basiliscus,
engendering and doing all things fraudulently, deceitfully,
guilefully: which as Nimrods and such sturdy and stout hunters,
being full of simulation and dissimulation before the Lord, deceive
the children of light, and cumber them easily. Hunters go not forth
in every man's sight, but do their affairs closely, and with use of
guile and deceit wax every day more craftier than other.

The children of this world be like crafty hunters; they be misnamed
children of light, forasmuch as they so hate light, and so study to
do the works of darkness. If they were the children of light, they
would not love darkness. It is no marvel that they go about to keep
other in darkness, seeing they be in darkness, from top to toe
overwhelmed with darkness, darker than is the darkness of hell.
Wherefore it is well done in all orders of men, but especial in the
order of prelates, to put a difference between children of light and
children of the world, because great deceit ariseth in taking the
one for the other. Great imposture cometh, when they that the
common people take for the light, go about to take the sun and the
light out of the world. But these be easily known, both by the
diversity of minds, and also their armours. For whereas the
children of light are thus minded, that they seek their adversaries'
health, wealth, and profit, with loss of their own commodities, and
ofttimes with jeopardy of their life; the children of the world,
contrariwise, have such stomachs, that they will sooner see them
dead that doth them good, than sustain any loss of temporal things.
The armour of the children of light are, first, the word of God,
which they ever set forth, and with all diligence put it abroad,
that, as much as in them lieth, it may bring forth fruit: after
this, patience and prayer, with the which in all adversities the
Lord comforteth them. Other things they commit to God, unto whom
they leave all revengement. The armour of the children of the world
are, sometime frauds and deceits, sometime lies and money: by the
first they make their dreams, their traditions; by the second they
stablish and confirm their dreams, be they never so absurd, never so
against scripture, honesty, or reason. And if any man resist them,
even with these weapons they procure to slay him. Thus they bought
Christ's death, the very light itself, and obscured him after his
death: thus they buy every day the children of light, and obscure
them, and shall so do, until the world be at an end. So that it may
be ever true, that Christ said: "The children of the world be
wiser, &c."

These worldlings pull down the lively faith, and full confidence
that men have in Christ, and set up another faith, another
confidence, of their own making: the children of light contrary.
These worldlings set little by such works as God hath prepared for
our salvation, but they extol traditions and works of their own
invention: the children of light contrary. The worldlings, if they
spy profit, gains, or lucre in any thing, be it never such a trifle,
be it never so pernicious, they preach it to the people (if they
preach at any time), and these things they defend with tooth and
nail. They can scarce disallow the abuses of these, albeit they be
intolerable, lest in disallowing the abuse they lose part of their
profit. The children of the light contrary, put all things in their
degree, best highest, next next, the worst lowest. They extol
things necessary, Christian, and commanded of God. They pull down
will-works feigned by men, and put them in their place. The abuses
of all things they earnestly rebuke. But yet these things be so
done on both parties, and so they both do gender, that the children
of the world shew themselves wiser than the children of light, and
that frauds and deceits, lies and money, seem evermore to have the
upper hand. I hold my peace; I will not say how fat feasts, and
jolly banquets, be jolly instruments to set forth worldly matters
withal. Neither the children of the world be only wiser than the
children of light, but are also some of them among themselves much
wiser than the other in their generation. For albeit, as touching
the end, the generation of them all is one; yet in this same
generation some of them have more craftily engendered than the other
of their fellows.

For what a thing was that, that once every hundred year was brought
forth in Rome of the children of this world, and with how much
policy it was made, ye heard at Paul's Cross in the beginning of the
last parliament: how some brought forth canonizations, some
expectations, some pluralities and unions, some tot-quots and
dispensations, some pardons, and these of wonderful variety, some
stationaries, some jubilaries, some pocularies for drinkers, some
manuaries for handlers of relicks, some pedaries for pilgrims, some
oscularies for kissers; some of them engendered one, some other such
fetures, and every one in that he was delivered of, was excellent
politic, wise; yea, so wise, that with their wisdom they had almost
made all the world fools.

But yet they that begot and brought forth that our old ancient
purgatory pick-purse; that that was swaged and cooled with a
Franciscan's cowl, put upon a dead man's back, to the fourth part of
his sins; that that was utterly to be spoiled, and of none other but
of our most prudent lord Pope, and of him as oft as him listed; that
satisfactory, that missal, that scalary: they, I say, that were the
wise fathers and genitors of this purgatory, were in my mind the
wisest of all their generation, and so far pass the children of
light, and also the rest of their company, that they both are but
fools, if ye compare them with these. It was a pleasant fiction,
and from the beginning so profitable to the feigners of it, that
almost, I dare boldly say, there hath been no emperor that hath
gotten more by taxes and tallages of them that were alive, than
these, the very and right-begotten sons of the world, got by dead
men's tributes and gifts. If there be some in England, that would

this sweeting of the world to be with no less policy kept still than
it was born and brought forth in Rome, who then can accuse Christ of
lying? No, no; as it hath been ever true, so it shall be, that the
children of the world be much wiser, not only in making their
things, but also in conserving them. I wot not what it is, but
somewhat it is I wot, that some men be so loth to see the abuse of
this monster, purgatory, which abuse is more than abominable: as
who should say, there is none abuse in it, or else as though there
can be none in it. They may seem heartily to love the old thing,
that thus earnestly endeavour them to restore him his old name.
They would not set an hair by the name, but for the thing. They be
not so ignorant (no, they be crafty), but that they know if the name
come again, the thing will come after. Thereby it ariseth, that
some men make their cracks, that they, maugre all men's heads, have
found purgatory. I cannot tell what is found. This, to pray for
dead folks, this is not found, for it was never lost. How can that
be found that was not lost? O subtle finders, that can find things,
if God will, ere they be lost! For that cowlish deliverance, their
scalary losings, their papal spoliations, and other such their
figments, they cannot find. No, these be so lost, as they
themselves grant, that though they seek them never so diligently,
yet they shall not find them, except perchance they hope to see them
come in again with their names; and that then money-gathering may
return again, and deceit walk about the country, and so stablish
their kingdom in all kingdoms. But to what end this chiding between
the children of the world and the children of light will come, only
he knoweth that once shall judge them both.

Now, to make haste and to come somewhat nigher the end. Go ye to,
good brethren and fathers, for the love of God, go ye to; and seeing
we are here assembled, let us do something whereby we may be known
to be the children of light. Let us do somewhat, lest we, which
hitherto have been judged children of the world, seem even still to
be so. All men call us prelates: then, seeing we be in council,
let us so order ourselves, that we be prelates in honour and
dignity; so we may be prelates in holiness, benevolence, diligence,
and sincerity. All men know that we be here gathered, and with most
fervent desire they anheale, breathe, and gape for the fruit of our
convocation: as our acts shall be, so they shall name us: so that
now it lieth in us, whether we will be called children of the world,
or children of light.

Wherefore lift up your heads, brethren, and look about with your
eyes, spy what things are to be reformed in the church of England.
Is it so hard, is it so great a matter for you to see many abuses in
the clergy, many in the laity? What is done in the Arches? Nothing
to be amended? What do they there? Do they evermore rid the
people's business and matters, or cumber and ruffle them? Do they
evermore correct vice, or else defend it, sometime being well
corrected in other places? How many sentences be given there in
time, as they ought to be? If men say truth, how many without
bribes? Or if all things be well done there, what do men in
bishops' Consistories? Shall you often see the punishments assigned
by the laws executed, or else money-redemptions used in their stead?
How think you by the ceremonies that are in England, oft times, with
no little offence of weak consciences, contemned; more oftener with
superstition so defiled, and so depraved, that you may doubt whether
it were better some of them to tarry still, or utterly to take them
away? Have not our forefathers complained of the ceremonies, of the
superstition, and estimation of them?

Do ye see nothing in our holidays? of the which very few were made
at the first, and they to set forth goodness, virtue, and honesty:
but sithens, in some places, there is neither mean nor measure in
making new holidays, as who should say, this one thing is serving of
God, to make this law, that no man may work. But what doth the
people on these holidays? Do they give themselves to godliness, or
else ungodliness? See ye nothing, brethren? If you see not, yet
God seeth. God seeth all the whole holidays to be spent miserably
in drunkenness, in glossing, in strife, in envy, in dancing, dicing,
idleness, and gluttony. He seeth all this, and threateneth
punishment for it. He seeth it, which neither is deceived in
seeing, nor deceiveth when he threateneth.

Thus men serve the devil; for God is not thus served, albeit ye say
ye serve God. No, the devil hath more service done unto him on one
holiday, than on many working days. Let all these abuses be counted
as nothing, who is he that is not sorry, to see in so many holidays
rich and wealthy persons to flow in delicates, and men that live by
their travail, poor men, to lack necessary meat and drink for their
wives and their children, and that they cannot labour upon the
holidays, except they will be cited, and brought before our
Officials? Were it not the office of good prelates to consult upon
these matters, and to seek some remedy for them? Ye shall see, my
brethren, ye shall see once, what will come of this our winking.

What think ye of these images that are had more than their fellows
in reputation; that are gone unto with such labour and weariness of
the body, frequented with such our cost, sought out and visited with
such confidence? What say ye by these images, that are so famous,
so noble, so noted, being of them so many and so divers in England?
Do you think that this preferring of picture to picture, image to
image, is the right use, and not rather the abuse, of images? But
you will say to me, Why make ye all these interrogations? and why,
in these your demands, do you let and withdraw the good devotion of
the people? Be not all things well done, that are done with good
intent, when they be profitable to us? So, surely, covetousness
both thinketh and speaketh. Were it not better for us, more for
estimation, more meeter for men in our places, to cut away a piece
of this our profit, if we will not cut away all, than to wink at
such ungodliness, and so long to wink for a little lucre; specially
if it be ungodliness, and also seem unto you ungodliness? These be
two things, so oft to seek mere images, and sometime to visit the
relicks of saints. And yet, as in those there may be much
ungodliness committed, so there may here some superstition be hid,
if that sometime we chance to visit pigs' bones instead of saints'
relicks, as in time past it hath chanced, I had almost said, in
England. Then this is too great a blindness, a darkness too
sensible, that these should be so commended in sermons of some men,
and preached to be done after such manner, as though they could not
be evil done; which, notwithstanding, are such, that neither God nor
man commandeth them to be done. No, rather, men commanded them
either not to be done at all, or else more slowlier and seldomer to
be done, forasmuch as our ancestors made this constitution: "We
command the priests that they oft admonish the people, and in
especial women, that they make no vows but after long deliberation,
consent of their husbands and counsel of the priest." The church of
England in time past made this constitution. What saw they that
made this decree? They saw the intolerable abuses of images. They
saw the perils that might ensue of going on pilgrimage. They saw
the superstitious difference that men made between image and image.
Surely, somewhat they saw. The constitution is so made, that in
manner it taketh away all such pilgrimages. For it so plucketh away
the abuse of them, that it leaveth either none or else seldom use of
them. For they that restrain making vows for going of pilgrimage,
restrain also pilgrimage; seeing that for the most part it is seen
that few go on pilgrimage but vow-makers, and such as by promise
bind themselves to go. And when, I pray you, should a man's wife go
on pilgrimage, if she went not before she had well debated the
matter with herself, and obtained the consent of her husband, being
a wise man, and were also counselled by a learned priest so to do?
When should she go far off to these famous images? For this the
common people of England think to be going on pilgrimage; to go to
some dead and notable image out of town, that is to say, far from
their house. Now if your forefathers made this constitution, and
yet thereby did nothing, the abuses every day more and more
increased, what is left for you to do? Brethren and fathers, if ye
purpose to do any thing, what should ye sooner do, than to take
utterly away these deceitful and juggling images; or else, if ye
know any other mean to put away abuses, to shew it, if ye intend to
remove abuses? Methink it should be grateful and pleasant to you to
mark the earnest mind of your forefathers, and to look upon their
desire where they say in their constitution, "We COMMAND you," and
not, "We COUNSEL you." How have we been so long a-cold, so long
slack in setting forth so wholesome a precept of the church of
England, where we be so hot in all things that have any gains in
them, albeit they be neither commanded us, nor yet given us by
counsel; as though we had lever the abuse of things should tarry
still than, it taken away, lose our profit? To let pass the solemn
and nocturnal bacchanals, the prescript miracles, that are done upon
certain days in the west part of England, who hath not heard? I
think ye have heard of St. Blesis's heart which is at Malverne, and
of St. Algar's bones, how long they deluded the people: I am
afraid, to the loss of many souls. Whereby men may well conjecture,
that all about in this realm there is plenty of such juggling
deceits. And yet hitherto ye have sought no remedy. But even still
the miserable people are suffered to take the false miracles for the
true, and to lie still asleep in all kind of superstition. God have
mercy upon us!

Last of all, how think you of matrimony? Is all well here? What of
baptism? Shall we evermore in ministering of it speak Latin, and
not in English rather, that the people may know what is said and
done?

What think ye of these mass-priests, and of the masses themselves?
What say ye? Be all things here so without abuses, that nothing
ought to be amended? Your forefathers saw somewhat, which made this
constitution against the venality and sale of masses, that, under
pain of suspending, no priest should sell his saying of tricennals
or annals. What saw they, that made this constitution? What
priests saw they? What manner of masses saw they, trow ye? But at
the last, what became of so good a constitution? God have mercy
upon us! If there be nothing to be amended abroad, concerning the
whole, let every one of us make one better: if there be neither
abroad nor at home any thing to be amended and redressed, my lords,
be ye of good cheer, be merry; and at the least, because we have
nothing else to do, let us reason the matter how we may be richer.
Let us fall to some pleasant communication; after let us go home,
even as good as we came hither, that is, right-begotten children of
the world, and utterly worldlings. And while we live here, let us
all make bone cheer. For after this life there is small pleasure,
little mirth for us to hope for; if now there be nothing to be
changed in our fashions. Let us say, not as St. Peter did, "Our end
approacheth nigh," this is an heavy hearing; but let us say as the
evil servant said, "It will be long ere my master come." This is
pleasant. Let us beat our fellows: let us eat and drink with
drunkards. Surely, as oft as we do not take away the abuse of
things, so oft we beat our fellows. As oft as we give not the
people their true food, so oft we beat our fellows. As oft as we
let them die in superstition, so oft we beat them. To be short, as
oft as we blind lead them blind, so oft we beat, and grievously beat
our fellows. When we welter in pleasures and idleness, then we eat
and drink with drunkards. But God will come, God will come, he will
not tarry long away. He will come upon such a day as we nothing
look for him, and at such hour as we know not. He will come and cut
us in pieces. He will reward us as he doth the hypocrites. He will
set us where wailing shall be, my brethren; where gnashing of teeth
shall be, my brethren. And let here be the end of our tragedy, if
ye will. These be the delicate dishes prepared for the world's
well-beloved children. These be the wafers and junkets provided for
worldly prelates--wailing and gnashing of teeth. Can there be any
mirth, where these two courses last all the feast? Here we laugh,
there we shall weep. Our teeth make merry here, ever dashing in
delicates; there we shall be torn with teeth, and do nothing but
gnash and grind our own. To what end have we now excelled other in
policy? What have we brought forth at the last? Ye see, brethren,
what sorrow, what punishment is provided for you, if ye be
worldlings. If ye will not thus be vexed, be ye not the children of
the world. If ye will not be the children of the world, be not
stricken with the love of worldly things; lean not upon them. If ye
will not die eternally, live not worldly. Come, go to; leave the
love of your profit; study for the glory and profit of Christ; seek
in your consultations such things as pertain to Christ, and bring
forth at the last somewhat that may please Christ. Feed ye
tenderly, with all diligence, the flock of Christ. Preach truly the
word of God. Love the light, walk in the light, and so be ye the
children of light while ye are in this world, that ye may shine in
the world that is to come bright as the sun, with the Father, the
Son, and the Holy Ghost; to whom be all honour, praise, and glory.
Amen.